


I kept my word

by Phobicrhyme



Series: Scenes from before the events of The Mandalorian [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Identity Issues, Pre-Episode: s01e01 The Mandalorian, Slight Canon Divergence, din struggles with being a mandalorian, no beta we die like stormtroopers, set before events of the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28781298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phobicrhyme/pseuds/Phobicrhyme
Summary: After months of testing Din's patience, a member of Ran's crew attempts to take Din's helmet off. It ends badly.Set when Din was running with Ran's crew. He left the covert while having an identity crisis, and after a few years of doing unsavoury jobs, Din finally comes to terms with who he is.A scene from a fic I want to write, but don't have the time to. A little character exploration of pre-show Din.
Series: Scenes from before the events of The Mandalorian [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110155
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	I kept my word

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first Star Wars fic, and I wanted to explore Din before the show. So I've tried to make him a little sloppy and reckless than what he usually is. Also they're on a ship travelling back from a job. Enjoy!

Din heard the mess room door open, close and then lock. He paused from pulling out some rations.

“You know I don’t like to eat in company.”

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just getting some rations too.” Darga moved over to the packs, all while keeping his eyes on the Mandalorian. Din slowly turned around to the smiling Zabrak. Kriff how this man irritated him.

“Leave. Now.” Din’s fingers itched for his blaster. His skin began to prickle; something didn’t feel right.

“What? I’m not doing anything wrong.” Darga began rifling through the packs noncommittedly. Din, not entirely satisfied, moved back to what he was doing. He took a small pack and began to move towards the door, but before he could make it he felt hands close around his helmet and begin to pull. He suddenly dropped what he was holding and shot the light out in the room with his blaster, but the helmet was already off. In shock, the assailant dropped the helmet and Din heard the loud clang as it bounced to a corner of the room. Lucky beskar doesn’t scratch easy.

“What the kriff?” He’d crossed a line.

Din’s eyes quickly adjusted to the dark – another thing he was beginning to retrospectively appreciate about his training. Din paused, feeling his body begin to shake. The conflict of the exposure and the fact that he’d let it happen causing his fight or flight mode to activate. But he wasn’t running. He clenched his fists and brought them up to guard his face while turning to face Darga. This was going to feel good.

“M-Mando?” Darga’s hands began to reach out and feel for something, but before he could take a step Din had cracked him one in the face. He stumbled backwards a couple paces while Din relished in the feeling of the connection and the sound it had made. He flexed his fingers.

“Mando, i-it was only a joke-” Din’s fist interrupted him once again. He tried backing up against the wall, but stumbled on a chair. Din advanced on him with his hackles raised, he could only see red. Darga touched his nose and exclaimed.

“Dank ferrik, Mando, my nose i-” This time Din swept his leg behind Darga’s and hooked under his feet causing him to fall to the ground like a sack of Corellian potatoes. Darga grunted as the air was forced out of his lungs.

“Mando, come on.” Darga’s voice was shaking now. Din took pleasure in hearing the terror rattle him. He smoothly moved around to Darga’s side, and crouched down.

“I said I would kill you the next time you tried to remove my helmet.” Din stood up.

“No, wait- Mando, please! It was a- it was a joke! I didn’t mean anything by it-” Din’s boot pressed on Darga’s throat. Hard. Darga began struggling underneath him, but he pressed harder. Strangled noises escaped from Darga’s mouth as he tried to plead with Din, but Din responded with more pressure. After a few agonising minutes, Darga eventually stopped resisting and Din applied further pressure, cause more than permanent damage.

Din stilled and listened to his own breathing. It was calm, like nothing had happened. He clenched his teeth and brought his palms up to his eyes. Why did he react like that? Because he’s a Mandalorian. That’s why. He couldn’t escape his training, no matter what he did. Anger swelled up inside him, his breathing quickening.

…Did he want to break his code? He’d thought about taking his helmet off so often. Just… leave everything beskar behind. Isn’t that what he wanted? He released his palms from his eyes and turned to look at his helmet on the floor. He stomped over to it, picked up and brought it up, aiming the visor for the edge of the table. He stood there frozen in place, tense. Eventually the adrenaline drained out of him and he slowly lowered his arm, turning the helmet to face him. He ran his gloved fingers along the outline of the T-shaped visor, and then along the ridges and crevices of the rest of the helmet. It was strange looking at the helmet; it was like looking in a warped mirror. This was who he was to everyone else. No. This helmet face was who he was. He was a Mandalorian. No matter who he was before that fateful day, he was a Mandalorian now. And he will be until he joins the Manda. He slipped the familiar helmet back on and slowly lowered his hands, blinking slowly as the familiar display blinked on and lit up the room. A tension he didn’t even realise he was holding in his shoulders released. He was safe.

Din turned around to look at Darga. The helmet immediately started reading Darga’s body. No pulse; he was dead. It was for the better, there was no other outcome to this situation. Din picked up Darga’s ankle and began to drag him to the door. As soon as he entered the main room of the ship, everyone’s eyes were on him. Din dragged the body over to the empty escape pod hatch. Ran got up, his game of sabacc with Qin forgotten. He glanced at the body’s crushed neck.

“Mando, what the kriff happened?” He stepped in front of Din, blocking his way. Din only stared at him.

“I kept my word.” Qin and Xi’an looked at each other, nervous. Ran continued to stand in Din’s way for only a few seconds more before he raised his hands and backed off. Din’s helmet followed him as he side stepped. Din could feel everyone watching him as he pushed the button to the airlock and threw the body in. He took one last look at Darga’s mangled throat before pushing the button to close the door and release the airlock. Good riddance.

“The light fixture in the mess room is broken.” Din retreated to his bunk, still hungry.

**Author's Note:**

> Some headcanons I have for this specific fic:  
> \- Din is asexual (maybe biromantic too, but I'm not sure yet)  
> \- He's also touch starved, and he thinks he can solve that in unhealthy ways (what Xi'an references in ep 6 - negative memories for him :( )  
> \- Also has unchecked PTSD that he doesn't know how to deal with  
> \- Hanging with Ran's crew was his rebellious phase that he wasn't allowed to have as a teenager  
> \- Din left the covert partially because he was angry at the Mandalorians for taking him in, but he learns to accept their love and respect them properly (and also earn back their trust)  
> \- The leaving of the covert is what causes him and their relationship to be super awkward like we see in the show itself  
> \- He goes from being a reckless, brash, uncareful, uncaring person to the person we see in the show who is soft enough for Grogu
> 
> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think and if I can improve on anything :)


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